The Hours of Midnight
by Lolly Cheesecake Factory
Summary: [under construction] 12-30-04 Prelude and chapters one through five are re-uploaded. :D Doom, neh?
1. Prelude: Ancients

-----

the hours of midnight

v.2

notes – let's pretend that I've revised this only once. Original premise (i.e. basically being a Albert in PERIL!fic) still the same. Basically, I went through with a stick and smacked everything I hated. Which was…a whole damn lot.

rating – DOOM. PG-13.

-----

You can run, but you can't outrun it

You can hide, but it will find you

It is blind, and yet can see

What is it?

-----

prelude – ancients/

Complete night was rare. The scintillating silver of stars and the gleam of the moon always marred true darkness.

This night was different.

No moon graced the velvety black heavens, no starts winked high above. Utter and beautiful night: a perfect darkness. Gloriano was vast and expansive, stretching to the ends of the world it seemed, no light to mark the edge of earth and the beginning of sky.

Vellweb stood, dark against even the rich black of everything that was the night. Dark as oblivion. The towers that had once been home to the dragoons of old, faded with time, stood sentry still. Ghosts of the ancients that once clung to those sacred walls were long since gone, leaving nothing but crumbled remnants of lives past.

It was one tower in particular that seemed to draw the attention to the bent, withered figure. Topped with what was once brilliant emerald, now dulled, chipped and cloaked in mosses, the Tower of the Jade, Dragoon of the Wind.

Nothing much more than memories lingered in the still proud stones, but he had long learned that even stones told stories, their memories outreaching time itself.

He stood in the middle, idle it seemed. A cloak of ebony spilled out around him, hiding the skeletal from view, a hood falling over features like black rain. Hands gnarled beyond imagination supported a weathered book, no, nothing more than a few scraps of parchment now. Time took its toll on _all_ things.

Except darkness.

…_sealed forever until He Who Sleeps awakens. The Mharamw, the Fallen One, Child of the Damned. _

Eyes like ruby fire searched the paper, finally alighting on the beginning.

_Ti'shadizar of the Pri Dura forsook her people to warn the Humans of this evil, all in vain, for the Winglies themselves could no longer control their own creation, their own doom. Putting aside differences, the Winglies of the Pri Dura and the Dragoons of Light, Darkness and Wind fought and drove the Great Darkness to the fallen lands of the Pritha Duran, where the Mharamw was sealed forever until He Who Sleeps awakens._

Memories flooded this ancient beings mind; just feeling the old reed paper brought it back. He had been asleep far too long.

S_yuveil…_

A gusting wind whipped through the tower, a name called to being, a name not forgotten by the stones.

Ruby fire eyes flickered upward, up towards the beautifully immaculate night. He crumbled the paper in his withered hands, letting the brittle remains scatter on the night air.

"Snuff the Light, find the Darkness…"

From the surrounding night, three shadows slipped forward, birthed by midnight itself and holding all its dark mystery.

" And find him," said his whisper, a sound like bones on granite. "Bring me the Jade."

-----


	2. Moonlight's Requiem

-----

moonlight's requiem

notes – tinkered with, but otherwise the same. Really, this chapter is the BEST one. Why screw with what works? XX should take her own advice

-----

_Miranda_

Thrashing in her bed, almost in mortal pain, the Sacred Sister whimpered and tightened her hands into fists, as if trying to ward away the voice in the dark. Moonlight spilled from the open window, bright beams pinning the blond woman to the dark coverlets, chaining her to the swirling figures the same nightmare that plagued her for days.

Teeth bared in a soundless snarl, the blankets providing no protection from the voice that was so damned gentle it actually hurt to hear it. Trembling against the sudden onslaught of gusting wind that breezed through the flimsy curtains and whipped around her tiny room, a coat of frost edging everything it touched.

_Miranda_

"No," whispered in a pleading voice she had never used in her entire life.

_Miranda…wake up_

Now the wind was swirling fiercely, knocking over odds and ends gathered on shelves, the quiver in the corner, the bow hanging on its rack, getting warmer, almost unbearable hot…

"N-no…"

Darkness exploded, a myriad of sounds and lights rushing to fill the void, a thousand voices sounding as one, a thousand heartbeats beating in unison, faster and faster, the voice in the dark still breathing softly almost next to her. Miranda hissed out a breath, involuntarily readying a scream to wake her. Heart hammering, a cry working up from her throat, all-building tempo until—

--she woke up, breathless in the dark of her room, looking up into a fanged mouth that appeared to be grinning down at her. Confusion assaulted her on top of the fear she had felt. Darkness did most certainly _not_ smile, did _not_ have teeth, in fact, it didn't even have a mouth in order to do so.

But it was _grinning_ at her and she was _not_ hallucinating.

_Move Miranda. MOVE NOW_!

Not a voice, but an explosion of blinding colors voiced this command and Miranda dove out of the confines of her blankets and smashed into the cold stone floor with an audible teeth clicking jolt.

Adrenaline powered her legs into a leaping sprint upwards, sweet blood ringing in her ears and singing in her veins.

Blonde hair bound in a short ponytail, a nightshirt, and her bare hands. Shit.

The mouth above her bed disappeared. The mattress where she had just lain dented inward sharply, a great weight pressing it nearly to the floor. And a good ten feet above her, a hellish set of crimson eyes flared open.

Darkness didn't possess _eyes_ either. This certainly wasn't part of her damned nightmare, her damn chin hurt too much for that.

A throaty growl and the springs screamed in protest at being forced farther down, Miranda tensed—

--And dove to the side as the indistinguishable blur of shadows slammed down where she had just stood. She rolled upward and threw herself backward again as the rush of night air swished towards her in an intent that was unmistakable.

_Need the spirit! Get to the Dragoon Stone! Now!_

Which would be easier said than done. It sat on her nightstand, by the bed, which was on the other side of this invisible assassin.

Phantoms roiled to her right, boiling over in a excited rush at her once more. She spun and threw herself to the left, her head snapping to the side painfully as midnight talons caught in a loose tangle of golden hair.

"_Hiss….arrrrr…_" A breath inhaled noisily into brittle lungs, the inhalation of death itself it seemed.

She scrambled desperately away, diving to the floor just ahead of another sweeping attack. Hands stinging form impact, a warm trickle of wetness coming from the side of her head, she rolled forward.

Stillness. Absolutely nothing as she came back up, hands in a warding position.

_Excellent way to wake up. Nightmares and now invisible god damned…THINGS…_

Her hand brushed the side of her head and came away with sticky wetness. Still, no sound. Like a forest when a predator was about, so still that the air itself dared not to move. She instinctively moved towards the open window, closer to the moonlight that filtered in. Azure eyes were nearly engulfed in the black of her pupil as they expanded. This wasn't her element damn it!

A snuffling sound- then a high snarl. The sharp click of talons on the cold floor as they circled the room, all mingling with the muted darkness. A flickered flash of crimson eyes, so close.

It would wait her out, she thought darkly. Whatever it was, it could sit there until the sun rose, till she thought she was safe, till it was too late to scream.

Curtains fluttered against her back, lightly a feather touch. A crooked smirk graced her tense features. In a whirl, she latched onto the fabric and yanked, brining down the works and flooding the room with sweet-silvered light.

A coaly paw took her upside the head as her back was turned, tossing her like a rag doll into the far wall.

Silhouetted already in sinister shadows, it dropped back to all fours, a tiger of complete darkness, crouched in the moonlight, a tail lashing as if to berate her foolishness. Miranda's world spun crazily, an indention on the plaster wall as a reminder of her impromptu flight. Shadows blurred into a all consuming oblivion.

_No! Not like this!_

A snarl, and she pulled herself up onto a supporting hand, wiping her mouth with the other and grimacing at the red smear that came with it. So it wasn't afraid of light, huh?

"So," It was weaker than she wanted it to sound. "You wanna play rough do you?"

"_Hisarkkkkk_!"

The dragoon spirit glimmered urgently on the bedstand. Dizzily and with growing numbness, she was on her feet again. A low growl emanating from the shadow-beast, it clicked forward.

Its mistake.

Miranda lunged, a full stretching grab for the pulsing stone, her hands closing around it even as the creature leapt at her extended form—

For a single moment, time was still. A knight at the doorway to the Crystal Palace glanced upward to the window of the First Sacred Sister, noting the odd noise that leaked from so high up, looked away as another knight passed by to greet him, and missed the spectacle of the entire section that had once been Miranda's windowed wall blow outward in a tremendous explosion of burning white light.

Thrown outward by the initial outburst of the transforming dragoon, the shadow-spawn twisted in mid-air, wings of a bat unfurling from its dark back. Its scream was a foul cloud of nothing by darkness that would sap the strength and will to fight.

Miranda never gave it a chance. The gaping hole that had been her window still raining chunks of crystal and stone down to the streets below, she leveled her open palms directly at the howling beast.

"I don't care what you're doing here," she shouted over its caterwauling and the frightened cries from below. "But it was your last FUCKING mistake!"

Shrieking, it came at her in a flurry of shadows.

She thrust her hands outward; point fingers and thumbs forming an upside down heart shape. "_Moonlight's Requiem!_"

A cone of pure silver lanced forward, enveloping the shadow-spawn in all its untainted beauty.

She was screaming along with it, willing the light to burn this abomination to nothing, not to be, the creature wrenched free of the pulsing wave and climbed from her reach, baleful burning eyes fixed on her hovering form until they blinked out of sight.

Miranda lowered her hands, grace lending her no hand as she tumbled back into her ruin of a room and felt rather than saw the armor fade from her limp form. By the time she was forced a healing potion by one of her Sisters, she was slipping into gray, clinging long enough to wakefulness to order a ship to Serdio, to Albert, who she felt had something to do with this, because something was very, _very_ wrong.

-----


	3. Dusk

-----

dusk

notes – ripped Asha out entirely. No, really. Originally, SHE was going to be the darkness dragoon, but y'know- Mary Sue!senses were screaming at me…

At any rate, short 'connecting' chapter.

-----

**B**ale's skyline was darkening to a hazy purple, turning the very air around the city alight with a violet sheen, spilling over wood shingled rooftops and lancing to the ground in splashes of dying brilliance. Flocks of pigeon's scattered by the hustle of last-minute errands dotted this sunset tinge with flecks of gray and white, winging their way to roosts and window ledges for the coming night.

Timeless, it seemed. A scene played out everyday in countless cities and villages, always back dropped by a different variation of sunset.

Or, it should have.

The clouds waiting to overtake the sunset were darkening with the rouge of nightfall, and heavy with the scent of rain.

The slender blonde watched the sky with a sort of wondering expression. Her hands stilled in the actions of gathering papers and the odds and ends that scattered about her.

"No stars tonight," the queen mourned aloud, taking another glance to the moisture heavy nimbus blanket and moved to right the mess she had made here, her own little sanctuary.

The 'observatory' maybe had been the remains of a garden shed, or perhaps a greenhouse, Emille mused, touching one of the many glass paned windows around her.

Star charts rattled as they were folded and tucked into their niches; the blonde eyed them wistfully, tracing a fingertip around one constellation before folding it as well.

Thunder laid the bones of a brewing storm; it was building a rather decent body of dark clouds now that the sun was nothing more than a blazing lip on the horizon.

Wrestling with a coversheet, the modest telescope was blanketed and Emille looked over her domain with searching gray eyes. A satisfied 'hmph' thereafter, she brushed her hands together and stepped lightly across the stone floor towards the door, running a mental tally of what needed done before she could seek out her bed.

'_Step one: Pry Albert from books.'_

A practical impossibility.

'_Step two: relocate said husband closer to chambers.'_

Because, really, is would be easier to drag him to the bed when he'd pass out from lack of sleep. She didn't fancy lugging him from the library to the royal chambers in the dead of night!

'Step three: finish letter to Lisa…' 

The door shut behind her with a light 'clicking' sound, and it took her wandering mind a moment to realize that the sound of the door shutting had. not. stopped.

_Click click click_. Across the floor she'd just crossed herself.

The length of her spine was clutched in a sheath of ice.

Click click cli- 

She whirled, peering though the paned glass.

Shadows. Shadows where shadows didn't belong…

She shook her head, as if to clear it, and the pool of congealed darkness that had lay in greenhouse was gone.

The young woman's hands inched towards the doorlatch, but fisted midway.

'_Stop it,_' she told herself, pulling a strand of pale blonde from her eyes as a wind suddenly sprang up in the tiny garden.

Somewhere in the thickened brush along the wall, a branch snapped. A wet, stealthy sound came soon after.

_Slithering, scrabbling, watching, waiting. _

The blonde moved, away from the gardens, listening to the rumble of thunder in the heavens above and for anymore noises around her. Reaching a smaller side door into the castle, Emille peered back, narrowing eyes, flickering from the trees to the undergrowth.

There was that…feeling. Something misplaced, a subtle _wrongness_. Emille frowned. 'Just the weather, maybe…' Shook her head. The slender blond vanished in through the door, slipping into the darkened passage that lead back into the main hall. Fighting with the impulse to look behind her, she shuddered faintly.

Really, it had felt as if she were being watched…

---

The garden was quiet with the impending storm, waiting for the rain to come. For the clouds to break. From the underbrush poured a thin sliver of a shadow, where it probed to path that the young queen had just taken, sniffing about like a hound dog might.

_Not yet_

It paused, thirsty for the warmth coursing through the human's veins.

The shadow retracted on that voiceless command, returning to the silent foliage and into the darkness that birthed it.

-----


	4. Something Wicked

-----

something wicked

notes – TINKERED. XX Filler chapter.

-----

Crisp and cold in an invigorating way was the light breeze that playfully swirled in through the open window. Though it was almost the beginning of spring, Serdio always managed to cling to the last bitter edges of winter like a miser did to gold.

Emille flickered a pale azure glance at the heavy drapes that barely stirred with this zephyr and quirked her mouth in a half-smile at the interruption. Weighty as they were, the distinctive dry rustle of the fabric pulled her mind from the books in front of her and back into the present. Grateful for the break in her current studies, (as of now, the history of Serdio) she gave a delicate yawn and stretched stiff muscles.

Another breath of air that held a noticeable biting nip gusted inward, rattling loose papers on the polished—but still bearing the scars of several generations—desk that she sat at. Another yawn followed, prompting the young queen to rise and meander over to the source of her distraction. Slender hands pushed aside the bulky dark blue drapes, allowing for a spectacular view of Bale from the royal chambers.

Here and there, golden lamplights shone cheerfully along streets and mimicked candles that sat in windows of the few households that were still awake.

…awake?

Oh no, certainly it couldn't be anything past ten…?

A quick measure of the fat, silvery orb that was the moon determined the true lateness of the hour. With a berating roll of her eyes, Emille reached up to bring the window down, to shut the nippy air out of the room. Her breath was a ghostly cloud as she took one more look outside, at the peacefully sleeping city still in its winter blanket of last snow.

Shadows danced on the blush of golden light that the lamps cast, frolicking merrily in a ballet that never remained the same.

Except for…that one, there.

Her brows furrowed as she squinted. No, she was imagining things, but…

Still as stone, the lone shadow poked out from a lamppost like a cat might peek around a corner, and it might have been her imagination, but she swore there was a flash of fire red before the shadows returned to their dancing.

Her head shook as if to clear the image that her tired mind produced and looked harder, seeing nothing but the normal night dance.

There was a thump in the room that adjoined the one she was standing in, and Albert's muffled exclamation reached her ears. Shaking the image of shadows from her mind, the blond queen started for the half opened door with the intent on informing her husband of the time.

That was when the door slammed shut before she could even touch it.

-----


	5. Witching Hour

-----

witching hour

notes – nada.

-----

Emille stared at the door for the longest time, alternating glances from the gently curving door latch to the open window, where the night breeze still tagged the drapes playfully. Surely not that soft a zephyr would be enough to push the heavy door to Albert's study shut?

Could it?

A flurry of shadows danced along the edges of her vision, scampering from sight when her head whipped around to glimpse the disturbance. The drapes rustled as if in laughter.

"Em?" The thick wood between them muffled Albert's voice, but it was still reassuringly close. "I know I spend a lot of time in here… but isn't locking me in a bit of an 'extreme' hint?"

Locked?

Something in her chest loosened in a sort of vague panic.

Her slender hand grasped the latch and tugged upward, but the curved handled didn't budge. She rattled it lightly, and still there was nothing. "I didn't lock you in. I didn't even shut the door."

There was a pause, then, "Lovely, now we're haunted…" She could almost see the quirk of a small grin.

The cat soft tread of muted footsteps on the plush rug that dominated the floor reached her ears, just barely, almost as if it was supposed to be heard. Teasing. She whirled, a golden and blue silk blur, face to face with…

Nothing.

"Emille?"

So cold in the room now- her breath plumed upward in ghostly clouds. She was shivering both from the sudden onslaught of wintry air and a nagging feeling of unease, but she dared not move to shut the open window, reluctant to put the room to her back.

"I'm…fine, Albert." She answered with a narrow blue scowl at the window.

"Ah, and the door must be jammed, it's not opening on this side either."

A chilly finger slid up her spine, and another flurry of shadows teased her eyes from the side. "What do you mean?" Her breath floated upward, misted and disappeared.

The doorknob rattled at her back insistently. "Jammed, I think. I'll come around from the hall door." The sound of his boots reverberated on the floor under her slippers. Emille let her eyes slid slowly around the silent (like a forsaken TOMB, it was) room.

A dank breath washed the back of her neck, causing her to spin in sudden surprise, but only to all to solid door was there, then the eerie feeling of _something_ there, behind her, taunting her in a cruel game.

"Albert…" a shaky whisper chased the phantom plumes of her breaths to the ceiling. There was a quick flicker of crimson to the side of her sight, then that horrid chill vanished with only a few lingering motes and were vigorously rubbed from her bared arms. Perhaps they _were_ haunted…

Her mind screamed, an instinctive action to _run_. Without a second thought, dress be damned, Emille kicked into a sprint for the hall door.

-----

With an absent sweep of a hand to push an errant strand of light brown hair from his eyes, Albert jiggled the carved latch. Rattled it. Flicked it up and down as if to confuse whatever impish entity had overtaken it. His mouth slid into a narrow line of one no longer amused.

Shook it, _hard_. Nothing.

"Firewood." He told it darkly. Rattled it with a good violent burst. Nothing.

The door out to the hall had turned out the same as the other, jammed, or hexed, whatever the case might be, he was more incline to believe the latter.

A sharp knock jerked his head up, the voice on the other side unmistakably-

-Meru?

"Albert!" She sounded…frantic?

"Meru, what's wrong?" There was a cool draft that wafted up from under the door that adjoined his study. Too cold, even for this time of year. "The door's jammed…or something, it won't budge." He half expected her to whip out that over-sized hammer. "Emille's is as well."

Meru hit the door, hard. "I have something real weird to tell ya Al."

Bitter cold. Creeping along the floors and into the surrounding air. The candles on his desk on the far side danced wildly on a nonexistent breeze, and an almost too quick wink of red in the corner of his eyes.

"Got that hammer handy, Meru?" he asked lightly, a disconcerting feeling of nervousness invading. There! Another stealthy glimmer of hellfire red: closer than last time.

"There's something freaky going on here Al." From the Wingly girl's side, the door rattled loudly.

_I'm seeing it very well from here_, he thought with a shiver. The unearthly freeze had penetrated the thick shirt he wore, scampering down his spine with the arctic paws of a ghostly squirrel.

Another voice joined Meru, Emille's panicking words doing little to ease his frame of mind. Her hands tried the door latch from their side, with the same success.

"Albert! Something's _here_!"

Click click click 

Albert spun, the frantic candles throwing shadows in writhing shapes everywhere. The study was the same as ever, books piled here and there, papers sticking out of reference volumes, notes scattered about in random order. Nothing.

Click click click 

Muted talons clattered against the bared floor, somehow everywhere he wasn't looking, always a blink ahead.

From outside, Meru's worried "Move!" snapped off. There was a pounding of feet and the impossibly loud thud of a hammer biting into the door in an attempt to break in.

The tall king wheeled back to the door, hitting the flat of his palm against it. "Stop Meru, what did you say--"

Hisssark 

In the immortal words of the White-Silver Dragoon…

Oh shit.

Then the candles gave a weak flicker and were snuffed out. Pitch black reigned in the study turned prison. Against better judgment, he pivoted around—

--and darkness blinked at him. This oddity was confusing enough, considering that darkness didn't have _eyes_ in which to accomplish this feat. But his own liquid brown gaze locked with hellish crimson, and he forgot about this anomaly to focus on the fact that _he was trapped in here with it!_

That deep buried instinct flashed to the surface, and Albert threw himself backward, the swish of air as midnight talons ripped in place where he had stood. His back hit the door with a hard thump, and he felt his legs drop out from under him as the coaly paws swiped where his head had been, tearing into the wood of the door and gouging furrows so deep that thin streams of dim light trickled in from the hallway.

Hissark-! 

_Too bad the Jade Spirit is in your ROOM!_

"Meru!" Nearly threw himself to the floor to avoid another flurry of dark claws, rolled up and stumbled, felt the hot warmth of blood well up along his shoulder blade. Cries from outside; the icy crackle of a dragoon transformation.

An unlikely warhammer bit again into the already damaged wood.

Talons tore into his ankle and a sharp yank had him landing rather painfully on his bleeding shoulder. Burning slits opened up directly above him, a fanged mouth sliding open into a feral grin. The errant thought of "darkness doesn't grin either" buzzed through his mind. Gathered his thoughts and kicked upward fiercely, connecting with something in the midnight of his study and heard a stack of books scatter as something landed on them.

He lunged up; clutching his torn shoulder the best he could, baring his teeth against that ungodly chill. The hammer broke through, allowing the shaft of light to pour in, and revealing something that Albert would have rather not seen.

On all fours in came, slowly and leisurely, eyes that had to be direct gateways to hell gleaming in feline hunger. Shape blurred with blackness and became indistinguishable as it passed the light beam, apparently unconcerned that the dragoon on the other side was cursing and getting closer with every swing.

The eyes _flared_, right in front of him, and the cold feeling of fangs stabbing deep was overwhelming…

He couldn't even scream, couldn't breath, couldn't _see_…but that numbing icy cold was stilling struggles, slowing the heart…

"_Albert_!" There was no longer a face with the name, nor a name to the voice, just the dark pulse of blood and awareness of life fading to twilight.

-----


	6. Call My Name

Chapter Five

Divinities Own 

Rouge.  The place where all elements seemed in harmony, earth met sea, sea met sky, and wind caressed everything with a gentle kiss.  Vast golden, sandy beaches stretched for miles, a lush emerald tangle of trees and colorful plants edging closer to the cerulean waters, all were stunning sights, but Dart had other things on his mind.

He'd been sitting in the same sandy alcove for nearly five hours, never once straying from the task he'd set about to do.  One hand held a delicate pointed rod with an ever slightly hooked end, and in the other nestled in his palm was the Divine Dragon Spirit.  Five hours of total painstaking carving, each stroke a feather light touch that barely seemed to make a blemish in the radiant orb, but at the drawing end, there was an intricately wrought pattern of a single rune, its lines interconnecting and never ending.

"Very good," breathed the ancient Wingly woman that had never left his shoulder for the entirety of the carving.  "Speak the call name of the spell."

Call name?  In all the intense concentration needed for the carving, he'd completely blanked a name for the thing.  Charle Frahma gently took the rune-rod from his hand and replaced it in the numerous folds of her dress.  

"The call name will lock the rune in place until it is needed, then, when cast, it will forever be a part of the spirit.  So be sure it's proper."

Dart frowned.  Sandy blond bangs snaked into squinting eyes, no longer held at bay by the bandana.  The process of spell-carving had been preserved entirely by Charle, and it was definitely time-consuming, which Dart had been surprise when Miranda had been the first to complete.  The Sacred Sister was one of the last people he'd expected to sit still long enough to finish the rune.  

"Divine…" Yes, that was the first; the spell shaping was next, _thinking_ of the spell itself.  For the entire time.  _Only the spell_.  He would be seeing it in his sleep for days.  Less powerful than the summons (Gods _forbid_ that the day come when he had to call forth the Divine Dragon) but significantly more complex than the innate magic that had been part of the package to begin with.  Then, almost as if urged by the gently glimmering spirit, it filtered into his mind.  Fitting, it seemed, as he breathed the last word, "Retribution." 

In a single stunning instant, the spirit flashed in a heart stopping wash of power.  The rune filled with what looked to be liquid shadow, gleaming darkly and then slowly seeped inward, taking the rune carving inside the core with it, where a miniature whirlpool of colors was birthed.  

"Good," The silver haired woman patted his shoulder affectionately.  "Now let it settle before you go blasting something with it, a few days should be good enough for a spell of that nature."

Dart wiped the beads of perspiration from his forehead and gave a dry grin under tired eyes.  "I feel like I just ran five miles in the Death Frontier."  

Charle laughed, a full-throated musical sound not dimmed with age.  "Then you're better off than most.  Poor Albert, your illustrious king was asleep for a day and a half."

The Divine Dragoon shook his head and rose stiffly, dusting sand from his pants, pocketing the dragon spirit.  Rouge's wooden structures jutted out from the cliff it rested beside, silhouetted by a lowering sun and turning the blue water a silvered gray.   "Think dinner's ready?" he asked hopefully.

The Wingly woman shrugged, the gentle silken rustling of her out-of-place dress mingling with that of the eternal wash of surf that caressed the beach.  "Shana had prepared a lunch, but she didn't wish to bother you.  I told her to save it."

"Good." Extra emphasis wasn't needed.  He was _starving_.  He now knew why Miranda had only bothered with one rune spell; one was plenty enough, for sure!  He flexed his fingers as they walked, absently gazing out to see, to the clouds that crowded the dipping sun and the dying golden that sprayed the beach warmly.  Serene.  Beautiful.  Perfect.  

In the far distance, the dark dot of a passing ship, its sails pushed out elegantly with the last hopeful winds of the day.

Divine Retribution? What had made him think of that? It clashed with the feeling of tranquility that had descended in the last few months, suggesting that something was going to happen that would require swift reprisal.  He shrugged away that dark thought, rolling his shoulders and wincing at the sharp pinch of sunburn.  Bah.  He was getting paranoid.   

The main building, a conglomeration of platforms and walkways that connected the different floors of the small village, grew closer, and the flurry of feet from the cliff side training area was audible from their position.  

"Maybe we'll swing up to Mille Seseau before we head to Serdio." Dart mused aloud.  The sand began to give way to hardened clay, then the packed dirt of the trails that ran around the lush foliage of Rouge.  "See what Miranda's up to."

Charle made a nonsense noise that declared that she didn't care either way.  She was along for the ride, to see Endiness, to see the world that had changed so drastically.  

Dart's legs brought him to the small walkway that connected the beach and the rest of the wooden sprawl.  "Yeah, go see what…" The hulking behemoth of a Mille Seseau warship slid past him, its broad dark sides dwarfing him in its shadow as it slid towards harbor.  "…Miranda…is…doing…"

Charle raised a argent eyebrow.  "She works fast."

Dart sighed.  A warship and the Sacred Sister's sudden appearance in Rouge was a sign he didn't want, the beginning of the unease he'd been feeling.  The reason the urge of creating a new spell had taken him.

People began to gather on walkways and out of windows, watching as the gangplank dropped roughly and a familiar blond woman half-ran from the ship.  Her oceanic blue eyes alighted on him in tired confusion.

"You're here to?" She jogged closer, ignoring everyone else in her haste.  Dark rings under her eyes, a haggard drawn look to her lean face.  "I came for Haschel and Kongol."

Dart's stomach sank as a thousand possibilities whipped through his mind.  She must have read the look on his face, because her own hardened, and with her next words, the Divine Dragoon knew he was going to need that spell sooner than he thought.

"I'll explain later, grab your gear and let's haul ass."

^_^ A shortie chapter, but it works out that way.  La de da.  Don't make me sing to Doom Song.  I had the need to put Dart somewhere other than Seles and it's just easier in the long run to have the majority of the characters in a single place for simple pick-up and delivery.  Like the new spell name?  Now if I could only find some target practice…~looks around~ Dang it. And the thing about the carving new spells was just a thought, ~shrugs~ Just an explanation for the inexplicable appearance of a new spell.  

And Aya, since the …ahem…THING would not let me review chapter 6, I'll tell you now.  IT ROCKED!  Bring on chapter 7! 


	7. Door to Darkness

_(().0 REVISED Bahaha!)_

_101 cows in the road_

_101 cows_

_Mow one down_

_Goosh it into the ground_

_101 cows in the road_

-The Cow Song ^_^

Okay, that was little bit of off the subject ^_^

Ahem.  I was working out a plotline (again) and something grabbed my attention.  Why WOULD Lloyd come back to help them, aside form the whole 'atonement' issue? Wouldn't Lavitz or Rosie have more to do with it than anyone? Rose being one of the original dragoons and Lavitz being like, THE man in Basil that Al was buds with.  Bah, just a musing.  Nothing against Lloyd lovers or anything, I personally just like tormenting Bunny-Boy, I mean, from his POV, What would YOU do if some dude with funky armor, wings and a SPEAR was diving at you? 

Lavitz: I'd MOVE like a NORMAL person

Lloyd: Hey, you were stupid for charging me anyway

Rose: Let's just blame Freefall and end it

Lavitz and Lloyd: ^_^ 'kay!

Fifi: Hey! Not fair!

Chapter 6 ~ Door to Darkness

Blurrily the crumbles of a worn chamber came into hesitant focus, the remains of a time long past and fallen to ruin.  Wind howled in through chinks in blasted stone, screaming at the continued defiance of the tower that stood in its path.  

Albert groaned, rolled to his side and set a fresh wash of painful ripples down his shoulder.  Centuries of debris littered his vision of the floor.  Came to his knees slowly, clutching at his shoulder and wincing as a trickle of crimson warmth stained his fingers.  Head swimming in a vast ocean of dizzy disorientation, he rocked back on his heels and stood with the careful consideration of one four times his age.  

Hauntingly familiar was this chamber, its levels and rotted remains of bookshelves and the wrecked remainder of a study desk.  Albert gingerly prodded the desk with the toe of his boot, feeling the hard stone crumble slightly at his touch.  No, for all his hoping, this was not a dream.

"Vellweb?" The floor seemed to spin under him, prompting a crashing trip to the floor.  His injured shoulder screamed a protest at the jouncing.  

"Vellweb." Another ascertained.  A voice like the breath of Death.  Albert jerked around; flinching back when the cloaked figure appeared in the arched doorway with no more than a blink in time.  "The Tower of the Jade Dragoon."  It stepped forward; making no sound over the crumbling stones that littered the floor.  

With a teeth-baring effort, the young king pulled himself to his feet, feeling this time the icy tingle of something racing through his very being.  "What am I d-doing (snarled at the stutter) here?"

Eyes like dying embers appraised him from under the black cowl.  "Unlocking Darkness."

"That is very vague…" Wind screamed outside, almost a warning of incoherent air howling.    

Faster than liquid brown eyes could blink, an impossibly gnarled hand was wrapped around his throat and lifting him clear off the floor.  Albert flailed, kicking but never finding purchase, gripping the choking hand but unable to pry it away.  Skin under his fingers felt as ancient parchment.  

"I've already been there, _boy_." 

A booted foot kicked right through ebon robes and hit nothing, as if it was a ghost.  Lungs screamed for air denied.

"Open the Door to Darkness," If a corpse could have spoken, this was what it would sound like.  "Swing it wide and let the Child come through!"  Mad cackling sent a wash of foul, nauseating breath over him.  Albert delved deep into a pool of still rational thought and clung to it, and then with a final, heaving effort, planted both feet directly into the cloaked phantom and threw himself backwards, ripping free of that hellishly powerful grasp and falling with a agonizing thud back to the floor.

"_Ti'shadizar!_" A howl went up, black cloak flapping like that of raven wings in a mad rage. "You have not the dragoons in this time! They are MINE! MINE!"  

A ghostly hand of invisible air brushed around the young king, the tangible equivalent of a reassuring smile. Then it was gone, leaving him once more to face this crude parody of a man.

The assault did not resume, but the youth remained cautious all the same.  The cowl lifted slightly, but revealed nothing of the features concealed within, and Albert was suddenly glad of that.  The mere notion of what those shadows hid was chilling.  

"Bring me the others," was the order spat with the dryness of grave dust, spoken to whom, Albert could not tell, but the sudden subtle shift in shadows around him was the answer did NOT wish to know. "Light and Darkness.  _Bring them to me!_"  There was another floating step in Albert's direction, the young king drawing himself up defensively to retaliate if he must, but one step was all that was taken.  "You're safe—for now, until the Keys are gathered."  

King and phantom stared, till Albert gave a shudder and gripped the still bleeding gashes on his shoulder and leaned heavily against the remains of the desk.  He would not give this…THING reason more to speak, he refused to rise to the words. (but goddess…the others? Dart, Miranda…would they too feel the bitter cold touch of these monsters?)

Shadows merged, till only hellish red hung in the doorway, even until they faded with an urgent gust of wind that was the beginning of a powerful storm.  

"Unlocking Darkness." echoed Albert, rocking with the dull throb in his back, closed his eyes, and began to put this nightmare into order…if possible.

Rarg! Short, I know, but I haven't updated FOREVER and I wanted to keep this chapter marginally compacted.  Albert's not dead.  Do you REALLY think I'd kill a Jade? I want the Red-Eye Stone! BURN THINGS! {laughs EVILLY}


	8. Ways of the Shadow

(revised)

So, here's to the ones who wanted another chapter, and for the ones who didn't…^_^ oops.  Beware the muffin man.  

Chapter 7: Ways of the Shadow

"Gone? Just like that?" 

Emille's blond head bobbed in a gentle 'yes.'  The queen lifted her gaze from the cherry wood table to meet Dart's questioning look.  "_It_ took him."

Miranda's head shot up sharply, pinning Emille with a hard dark blue stare.  In the corner, Kongol shifted heavily on a low backed reading couch, his rough features unreadable in the light of this news.  

"_It_?" the Sacred Sister repeated, rising to prowl the length of the library, the only room large enough to accommodate those who had gathered.  "Did you happen to see _it_?"  A rather evasive retelling of her own encounter on the warship had left her feeling edgy, as if merely speaking of the beast would call it back to her.  

"I couldn't see anything but shadows-" Meru began to shake her head when Miranda slammed her fisted hand down on the table that dominated the room.  

"_It is shadows_!" she ground out through gritted teeth.  On a silver chain tucked under her shirt, the white-silver dragoon spirit shimmered a burst of calming warmth, a reassurance to its less than tranquil partner.  "Damned thing was in Deningrad! In my BEDROOM!"

"Must be _real_ desperate then," Haschel observed dryly.  Miranda wheeled on him but the aging fighter held up his hands and eased them down as if to lower the blond woman's flaring temper.  "I'm not cracking jokes, Miranda.  Calm down."  

"Calm down? Albert's _out there_." The blond dragoon plunked down on a chair and glared at the table top till Meru was positive she saw smoke curling up from the wood under the heated stare.  

It was Shana, surprisingly, that stood next, giving her friends a half-smile of reassurance.  "There is another matter…"  _Of the dark dragoon spirit_.  Those words were left unspoken, for all eyes went to the darkly glimmering sphere sitting quite innocently on the table. 

"Hell." Miranda's soft comment reached their ears solely because no one else dared to breath.  "Now I'm NOT going to believe that some…GHOST—"

"It's TRUE Miranda!" Meru leapt to her feet, leaning over the table.  "I saw—"

"A Wingly that just GAVE you both the rock—"

"It was Ti'shadizar!" The Wingly girl shot back,  "I KNOW it was! She's a legend Miranda! She only comes when—"

"Stop it both of you!" Emille's cry brought a ragged halt to a escalating.  The disheveled queen rose, shaking from exhaustion and grief, tears glistening in salty rivers on her flushed cheeks.  "I will not have you two fighting…not YOU! Not NOW!"

The white-silver dragoon sank back down, growling inarticulate apologies, having the grace to at least look abashed at her actions.  Meru sat with a huff and cast a guilty look in Emille's direction.  "Sorry."    

Emille placed a finger on the scintillating orb to keep it from rolling and gestured with her free hand at the door.  "Asha is retrieving the…jade spirit."  There was a reason beyond that of keeping the jade orb in sight, away from that creature that had violated the sanctuary of her home and taken away with it the man she held in her heart, a reason that just refused to reveal itself.  She swallowed hard and looked back down.

Dart, oddly silent, rainbow anti-light playing across his face from the darkness stone, finally spoke, "This does not make sense, but we have to at least TRY and accept what is being thrown at us."  Sapphire eyes not unlike the hue of the blue-sea stone flitted to each of those gathered.  A lean jaw worked, wrestling with the words that were to be spoken.  "A 'ghost'" Meru's mouth turned into a frown at this.  "Somehow delivered a dragoon spirit to Meru…right BEFORE Albert was taken, which was also after Miranda was attacked by a similar creature."  He tossed a pointed look at the dark orb, then to Miranda.  "I know it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but try."

The Sacred Sister gave a angry snort, a toss of the head sent blond flipping wildly.  "I'd say it was trying to kill off dragoons, if not for that (a heated look at the dragoon spirit Emille held) and I'm thinking that it might be trying for another pass."

Haschel paced, unusually fidgety.  "She's probably right, you know."

A smirking oceanic glance.  "Damn right I am."

In a soft motion, the former moonchild leaned forward, gesturing to Meru.  "You said her name was Ti..Ti'shadizar?" The foreign named flowed off her tongue with a roll.  Ruby eyes distant, Meru nodded.  

"Yup, Ti'shadizar of the Pri Dura, the wilders."

"Wilders?" Emille paid scant attention to little else now, her focus on the Wingly complete.

"Err…yeah.  Winglies who didn't follow Frahma, they lived in the forests…the Ancestor would know more…I (a sheepish shrug) didn't really pay attention."

"Then w're going to see the Ancestor." Was the queen's announcement as she stood.

"We are, you're not." Dart intoned, gesturing for her to retake her seat.  "Sorry Emille, but Serdio needs you."

"Albert needs—"

Miranda cut her short with a abrupt wave.  "Hey, we'll drag one back for you to kick, but you're staying put."

And Emille glowered, frowned, and sat with a wistful gaze at the dark stone.         

Asha Rai was hardly one to be afraid of the dark, and had spent the better part of her service to the crown on night guard for the solitude it had offered.  In Indels now, the dawning sun that colored the surrounding sky vivid red and orange also sent shadows fleeing for the darker recesses of nooks and crannies.  

Superstitious fear, long handed down from her foremothers from those rolling hills of Seilnder, nagged at the corners of her mind.  Shadows to life? It sounded too much like the tales her mother used to tell her in order to keep a curious child inside after curfew.  Just the thought of some of those stories actually being _true_ was enough to chill her blood.  

_Aye, the Lord of the Night and the Black Ghost just decided to pop into Indels for a chat.   Keep telling yourself that.  Bloody hell, now I'm _talking _to myself!_

The kings chambers were unlocked (unsurprising) and a good deal of the surfaces were piled with papers and books (again, unsurprising.)   With a half-snarl at the sudden twinge in her shoulder, the red haired knight began the quick scan for the jade spirit.  Felt _wrong_ to be searching for something that _should_ have been in Albert's possession.  

Emille said it would be _here_, she thought with a frown, nudging aside a thick, many-paged book.  Nothing.  No telltale wink of green in the dusky light of the room.   

The rise of a presence directly behind her brought the woman around in a startled flash.  Defined only by a half-shadow and the faint light coming in from the windows, it leaned back in surprise as well.  She caught a flash of green clutched in its hand—_the jade spirit!_—and threw herself backwards till her back crashed against the wall.  

_The Black Ghost indeed! _ The shadowed figure stepped forward, raising a hand in a beseeching gesture—or attack.  

One curved blade ripped free of its sheath and swiped forward, nicking along where the cheekbone should have been.  Nothing that suggested a hit came away on the blade, but the figure reeled back.  There was a garbled cry, inarticulate speech.

The sister blade join its twin and flashed in deadly intent.    

"W—a—it" The single word was forced out in a choked voice, but it wasn't the word that stopped her.  It was the voice.  Asha pulled back, the blades coming up defensively.  The last time she had heard that voice was before the war ended, before—

"As—h." 

Another step backward, disbelief, distrust and all consuming hope warring on her face.  In the pale light of dawn, the jade orb pulsed in the resonance of acceptance and greeting for an old master returned.  The burning line of the sun began to glare in heatedly even as the steeldancer watched the half-formed specter begin to take the shape she knew from the past.  Lending its power to this transformation, the dragoon spirit was unbelievably radiant to the point that it hurt to watch, but she could no more look away than the sun not rise.  

The light ebbed to a gentle wash of emerald cascades; tinting everything in the room a soft green, then with a sudden trill, it died.  Hands flexed, still holding the now dormant orb tightly.  A blue green gaze like that of the summer sea met her own wide stare.  "It's me, Asha."

And for the first time in her life, Asha Rai fainted.  

Keeday! Revised!  


	9. The Answer isDarkness

(revised)

Ghaa! O.o ~points~ FIC! Good for me.  I am Fifi the Chronically Insane Slayer of Muffin Men!  Hey, everyone ELSE can have fancy titles.  :D Am I not special enough to have a title? Sadness.  

Right.  Get on with it, neh?  Yes, I brought Lloyd back.  ~hides~ It's that feeling of GOD-LIKE POWER. Everybody still here? Good.  On with the fanfic madness.     

The Answer Is…Darkness

Dust formed tornado-like dervishes as cold wind raced over walkways and through the cracks in old stone towers.  In one, once marked in vibrant violet, a thin flicker of shadows stirred with the breeze.  Watching from another, this one bearing chipped and faded gold, there perched a great blur of…something, distinguishable only by fickle moonlight and crimson slits of fire.  

Calm in this shadow of fear, Albert searched the towers and the stairs below, squinting into the vast darkness for any telltale hint of the beasts that kept him captive.  Not in a word 'captive,' he was free to wander around the tower of the jade dragoon, but the feeling that if he took a single step outside its protective stones, he would once more be at the mercy of the dark creatures surrounding him.  

His shoulder gave a sharp twinge, a dull throbbing following.  The ragged wound was bound tightly with the remains of his outer shirt, and had thankfully ceased bleeding long ago.  In the dark velvet night above, the skittish flickers of lightning brightened the gaps between dark lined clouds and the beginning percussion of thunder reverberated in the surrounding rock.

Still no sign of the last shadow creature, or the cloaked nightmare (that one had not made an appearance after the first 'visit') but he _knew_ they were there.  Watching.  Waiting.  

Crouched in the doorway of the emerald topped tower, Albert watched and waited as well, timing the flashes of lightning to the drum beats of thunder and the relative silence in between.  

One hell of a storm, as they say, was brewing.  

A hard rumble denoted the lament of the clouds above, witnesses to all.  Something shifted in the structure to his left; bright red sparks it seemed, moving to watch the king.

There was really no place to go, Albert mused, even if he DID try to escape.  Vellweb was fairly well hidden from the rest of the world, the closest sanctuary Deningrad, and the thoughts of traversing the whole of Gloriano with a pack of hell-spawned monsters nipping at his heels with NO provisions and NO weapons did not sit entirely too well with him.  However, the alternative was staying, and perhaps the safer of the two, it still presented the threat of the unknown creatures and the broken ramblings of phantoms.  

Albert was not content to sit and wait out whatever 'fate' held in store.  Nevertheless, he was not ready to risk everything on some foolhardy mad run for empty plains and no real hope that he could actually make it.  Another cracking streak and ominous grumble from the clouded skies. He stood slowly, letting blood pour through veins and rush to tingling limbs that had cramped during his watch.  

That and the gleaming fact that they _needed_ him for something…what had it been? Unlocking Darkness?  Schooling those questioning thoughts into the back of his mind, he shuffled back into the cool before-storm calm of the jade tower, quietly panning the room for _anything _that might be of use.

The flash bang of the storm setting into full swing opened the curtain of rain that pattered the stone with droplets then blanketed all.  

Rotted shells of book casings piled in one corner.  Albert nudged them with his foot, grimacing as they collapsed into dust.  Two days of absolutely nothing but waiting.  Rainwater alone had sustained him.  Surely there was more to this than simply letting him starve to death a thousand miles from—

"You can run, but you can't outrun it."  Colder than the grave, the voice sounded.  

Hair whipped into his eyes smartly, testament to the speed in which Albert spun to the speaker.  

Pooled in a cloak of shadow, it sat there, in the doorway he had just left.  "You can hide, but it will find you."

Albert tensed, backing farther into the tower, never once letting his eyes stray from the softly stalking figure.  In morbid fascination, the once jade dragoon watched this creature laugh, its head thrown back to reveal a crude, twisted mockery of a human face, aged beyond imagination yet somehow still clinging to life.  

"It is blind," came another line through insane laughter. "And yet can see!"

"What are you?" was spoken as he backed away, this perversion of nature more…wrong…than the others.  

"What is IT?" Phantoms clouded, began to circle him, closing in life wolves. "Give me the answer!" 

Another cracking bang illuminated everything in inverted shadows, light were it should have been dark, dark where light should have glowed.  

The mad cackling continued on, reaching a frightening crescendo that drown out the storm outside.  "Open the Door!  Let the Child come through and let me wash this world in darkness as was before!"

Shadows blurred and hellfire eyes rose to full height directly in front of him--that disjointed mouth opening in a scream.  In reflexive action, he jerked backwards; a boot heel hit the remains of a book covering and skipped out from under him, dropping the king to the floor with a painful jolt.

"The answer boy! Give me the answer!"   

And Albert was once again in the impossibly strong grasp, hauled upward and held fast.  All encompassing in his vision were those eyes, those red orbs of the damned that were as if looking into a direct road to Hell.  

Again, the riddle flashed, no, burned its way into his mind, gnawing deeper until all he could do was scream out, "DARKNESS!" before shoving himself away with every ounce of strength he still possessed to lay too still upon the floor, clenching his jaw firm to hold in the cry of pain that torn a jagged swath down his arm. Damn him! DAMN HIM!

"And you WILL open the Door, even if I must MAKE you." A lightning step forward, Albert raised a hand to push the phantom away, watched as the cloaked nightmare took another pace towards him, the beginning of the laughter flowing out once more--  

--and a silver shadow of a different nature connected with it, knocking it completely backward and sent it flailing back through the doorway.  

A shade, the translucent pallor filling in even as he dropped in a defensive stance with the grace of a panther.  Before Albert's unsure eyes, this ghost took a sure step closer.  "You cannot harm a Echo." This was said in a voice of velvet overlaying steel.  A crooked grin graced see-through features.  "Funny though, that I can you."

A broken rasp from outside.  "Too late shade, Echo, memory…whatever you are.  You cannot stop the Child of the Damned."

Lloyd—it HAD to be—paused, wraithlike in the lightning's illumination.  "Shall we see?"  Another twisted smile, mocking to a point of cruelty.  "I think we shall."    

Keeday, some terms—

Echo is LIKE a ghost, or a shade, only not.  But I'll get into that later.  kk? I didn't to 'resurrect' them as much as I wanted to bring them into the fic.  And yes still, Lavtiz WILL be the Jade Dragoon, regardless of his current state.  

And once more…I am SORRY about the revisions, they just makes things harder to follow.  I am, however, happier with this and the storyline did NOT alter as much as I made it out to be.  Just fixing some things that needed fixing.  So while I was at it, I cut some things and added different, it's back on track with the original plan I had for it and The Riddle was solved! Yay! Betcha didn't think it had purpose, did ya?


End file.
